CHAPTER 12 — THE STORM SHELTER
CHAPTER 12 — THE STORM SHELTER
“What did you give her?”
Julian kept the shotgun pointed at me.
“Something to keep her quiet.”
“What?”
“A sedative.”
“From Kerr?”
He didn’t answer.
That meant yes.
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“Maya is sixteen.”
“She’ll wake up.”
“She already did.”
The knocking came again.
Weaker this time.
I forced myself not to look toward the basement door.
Julian watched my face closely.
He wanted panic.
He wanted me to move first.
Instead, I held up the folder.
“You want this?”
His gaze returned to the will.
“Yes.”
“Then show me she’s alive.”
“She is.”
“That knocking could be a recording.”
His eyes narrowed.
I had insulted his intelligence.
Good.
Men like Julian could resist threats.
They could not resist being doubted.
He stepped toward the basement.
“Stay there.”
He opened the door.
A cold draft rose from below.
Julian descended two steps, still holding the shotgun toward me.
“Maya?”
No answer.
He went lower.
I followed at a distance.
The basement was unfinished.
Dad had built shelves along one wall for fishing gear and tools. At the far end, a heavy steel door opened into the old storm shelter.
Julian had left it partly open.
A faint light glowed inside.
Maya lay on a cot.
Her ankles were tied.
One hand had worked free, but her movements were slow and uncoordinated.
Julian approached her.
“Sit up.”
She blinked at him.
“You drugged me.”
“You were becoming difficult.”
Her eyes moved toward me.
“Elena.”
“You know me?”
“My father talked about you.”
Julian stepped between us.
“Enough.”
I looked at Maya.
“Are you having trouble breathing?”
“I feel sick.”
“Any chest pain?”
“No.”
“Dizziness?”
“Yes.”
Julian waved the shotgun.
“Stop playing doctor.”
“I’m assessing whether you killed your hostage.”
“I didn’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
His face tightened.
I moved closer.
“Let me check her pulse.”
“No.”
“Then she may die before you get what you want.”
He hesitated.
That was enough.
I knelt beside Maya.
Her pulse was fast.
Her skin felt cold and damp.
I noticed a small plastic vial beside the cot.
The label had been torn off.
I slipped it beneath my sleeve.
“Untie her,” I said.
Julian laughed.
“You really think I’m letting her go?”
“You have the gun.”
“And you have a mouth.”
Maya looked at him.
“My father was right about you.”
He turned sharply.
“What did he say?”
“That you blame everyone else.”
Julian stared at her.
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know you begged him to help you escape.”
“He owed me.”
“He used you.”
“He saved me.”
“He sent you here because he knew the police would follow.”
Julian’s face paled.
Maya continued.
“He wanted you caught with me.”
“Shut up.”
“He knew kidnapping me would turn you into the bigger monster.”
Julian raised the shotgun.
I stood between them.
“Don’t.”
“Move.”
“No.”
“Elena.”
“You already watched one person die because you were afraid of losing money.”
His eyes darkened.
“Dad chose you.”
“He chose honesty.”
“He chose a daughter who abandoned him.”
The words hit, but I refused to let them show.
“I left for law school.”
“You left all of us.”
“And that gave you permission to steal?”
“I built that company.”
“You emptied its pension fund.”
“I saved what could be saved.”
“You made thirty million dollars while employees lost their retirement.”
He took one step closer.
“You think Dad was a saint?”
“No.”
“You think Mom was innocent?”
“No.”
That stopped him.
“You saw the recording?”
“Yes.”
His voice changed.
“She helped me.”
“She protected you.”
“She moved the money.”
“She hid one transfer.”
“She signed the authorization.”
“Because you lied to her.”
“She chose me.”
“For years.”
His face twisted with something close to pain.
It was the first honest emotion I had seen from him.
“She chose me,” he repeated.
“Until she didn’t.”
The words landed hard.
Julian looked toward the fake will in my hand.
“She gave Dad the records.”
“Yes.”
“She told him.”
“Yes.”
“She betrayed me.”
“No. She stopped protecting you.”
He raised the shotgun higher.
Maya whispered, “He’s going to shoot you.”
Julian’s finger moved toward the trigger.
I said the safe word.
“Birthday cake.”
His eyes narrowed.
“What?”
Behind the storm shelter wall, something metallic shifted.
Julian looked toward the sound.
The tactical team was inside the tunnel.
He grabbed Maya by the hair and pulled her upright.
She cried out.
“Back away!”
I stepped back.
He dragged her toward the tunnel entrance.
The hidden steel panel opened.
Two officers appeared.
Julian swung the shotgun.
The officers withdrew.
“Move and she dies!” he shouted.
Maya’s knees buckled.
Julian struggled to hold her.
I noticed the shotgun barrel dip.
Only slightly.
I threw the folder toward the floor.
The fake will scattered across the concrete.
Julian looked down instinctively.
Maya drove her elbow into his ribs.
The shotgun fired.
The blast struck the ceiling.
Dust and wood splinters rained down.
I tackled Maya away from him.
Officers rushed through the tunnel.
Julian ran toward the basement stairs.
Wells shouted from above.
“Police! Drop the weapon!”
Julian reversed direction and disappeared through the storm shelter.
He had another route.
The tunnel.
I helped Maya sit up.
“Stay with the medics.”
“Elena.”
“What?”
“My father hid a drive in the cabin.”
“What drive?”
“Everything.”
“Where?”
She pointed weakly toward the shelves.
“Behind your father’s fishing photograph.”
Then the cabin lights went out.
May you like
A boat engine roared near the dock.
Julian had reached the lake.
